Much Coveted Servility
by Ravenna Corvin
Summary: Sebastian: what started as a word of command slowly grew into a name he yearned to hear. Ciel: what started as a means to a delicious end slowly transformed into something irreplaceable. In the midst of their growing bond, the child Earl and his demonic butler are thrown into a merciless and deranged plot that will test their will to persevere and their trust for one another.
1. Chapter 1

Full Summary:

Sebastian - what started as a word of command slowly grew into a name he yearned to hear. Ciel - what started as a means to an end slowly transformed into something irreplaceable. In the midst of their growing bond, the child Earl and his demonic butler are thrown into a merciless and deranged plot that will test their will to persevere and their trust for one another. (Sebastian x Ciel)

Genres: Mystery/Action/Adventure/Romance

**SPOILER WARNING:** This is a continuation of the manga from chapter 62 onward with a slight deviation in a few places. It will begin with series of separate events that take place over the span of a few months followed by a continuous chapter story that takes place after the last chapter of Black Butler currently posted online.

If you enjoy, please review! Looking forward to hearing from my wonderful readers!

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**Much Coveted Servility**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

**April, 1889**

* * *

That night, the moon silently observed the death of hundreds. From its perch in the black, cloudless, sky it had a perfect aerial view of the tragedy caused by both nature and man. In the span of a few hours, a ship that was meant to carry over one thousand people on an adventure of their dreams became a vessel of nightmares. Oddly, Ciel knew that what he was seeing was a dream, but the emotions and sensations he experienced were too tangible to allow his logic to drive away his fear. That night - _this_ night - unfolded before his eyes much like it had in the past. Before its inevitability, he stood helpless - the nature of the events set in stone allowed him no freedom to rewrite history. He could only watch in horror and hope that he would wake up before the worst part of his memories caught up to him.

_Where are you?_

The scene shifted. He abandoned the apathetic face of the moon. Now, he was a passenger desperately trying to run away from a horde of animated dead bodies. Trapped in a stampede of others just like him, he watched the echelons of high society abandon their shallow masks of civility to trample over others in their haste to save themselves. Men who had just recently been courting beautiful women now pushed them aside in their mad dash towards safety. Primly dressed women who spat on those who spoke without perfect manners now cursed and shouted insults at anyone in their way. Hypocrisy - in the face of disaster, humans drowned in it. In this narrow corridor between lavish cabins, no one was more aware of this fact than he.

Ciel's eyes darted around sharply. Where? Where was Sebastian? Though the body he currently occupied didn't know who that was, the boy did. He could push aside the gruesome deaths of the passengers - could tune out the screams, the pleas, and the sounds of grinding human teeth. He could ignore cries for help and throw off hands that tried to impede his progress for a few simple reasons. In these dreams, he was not bound by the principle of good and evil. In these dreams, the thought of leaving someone behind did not disturb him. In these dreams, only_ one_ approaching doom was responsible for his rising hysteria.

_Where are you?_

When Ciel finally broke away from the herd, he burst through various cabin doors. The ship was slowly tilting upwards and sinking into the black waters of the ocean. By the time he made it to the end of one hall, he was submerged to his knees. Furniture - dishes, books, beds, dressers, and everything material that had once composed someone's world - now floated around the rooms and hallways aimlessly. He was cold. At least, he _knew_ he was. But, it wasn't time to feel it yet. That bleak scene was still to come. For now, he had to keep searching for the one person he needed most. Tirelessly, he opened door after door until the water reached up to his neck. Room after empty room met his eyes. Even the screams had died down. The only sounds he could hear now were those of rushing water, groaning pipes, and moaning distortion of metal. When the water nearly overwhelmed him, he finally struggled to make it to higher ground. Swimming up a grand staircase in the middle of one of the lobbies in the center of the ship, Ciel finally made it to the surface and gasped for air.

Immediately, he shifted bodies again. This time, he was himself, watching a battle between Shinigami unfold. At last, he saw the man - no, demon - he'd been searching for. Without hesitation, he called his name. His voice may as well have been a whisper. No one heard him. The air shifted as though a pulse of deafening electricity ran through it. His lungs burst in pain and he covered his ears to keep his ear drums from exploding. In the space of the millisecond when he closed his eyes, something grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and pulled upwards with enough force to drive the air from his lungs.

"Now I can put you in one of my specially made coffins, Earl..." an unearthly voice whispered in his ear. Green - sparkling and vibrant - met his gaze when he finally opened his eyes. How unjust, that a God of Death should have eyes that appeared to be so full of life. Especially this one - the Undertaker. If not for the gruesome scar upon his face, he would have been beautiful. His hair was white, but not like snow. Instead, it was symbolic of an absence of something - a soul, perhaps? Yet, he was convinced that there was more to the Undertaker than evil intent. For a moment, the two floated in the air. Then, reality kicked in again. Caught in a bruising grip, Ciel felt himself being bodily turned around. He felt Sebastian running towards them and saw him a moment later. Then, the Undertaker threw him backwards over a staircase railing that stood nearly two stories tall. Sebastian whirled around, determined to catch his hand.

"No! Don't come for me! Don't, Sebastian!" Again, nobody heard him. His demon twisted in mid-jump. A look of fierce determination warped his face. The Undertaker chuckled and raised his scythe in preparation for a killing blow. "No, Sebastian! Don't!" But, although Ciel withdrew his hand, Sebastian did not hear him. With a sickening _crunch_, the Undertaker's weapon knifed into the demon's torso. Blood spurted in a long fountain from his chest. "No!" The sound of Ciel's scream echoed between them as though it crossed a chasm. He watched in horror as Sebastian pushed past his pain then felt his arms surrounding him as he caught him and saved him from a fatal drop. Everything went deathly still and pitch dark.

Slowly, the fading rays of moonlight illuminated a completely different scene. Ciel looked around and saw that he was sitting in a small life boat. In the distance, he saw the ship _Campania _stabbing upwards into the sky - mighty and flaming as a torch - as the ocean slowly devoured it. _Now_, it was time. The cold slammed into him with the mercy of a blunt end of an accelerating hammer. Ice coated his hair. Dreading this moment, he looked down. His small arms wrapped around Sebastian's torso; his head lolled against his chest. He was so pale - so _still_. Blood coated him in disturbing quantities. His clothes were torn open by multiple lacerations where gored flesh shone brightly in the dim light. Leaning over, Ciel struggled to keep himself from throwing up.

"Sebastian?" he called faintly. "Sebastian, wake up." With gentle fingers, he brushed aside long hanks of wet, black, hair from the demon's forehead. "Look, we're away from the ship now." He heard his voice tremble; felt disgust at his own weakness. "You're embarrassing me, Sebastian. A butler isn't supposed to sleep in his master's arms." In his chest, Ciel felt his heart rate accelerate; with every moment that his demon lay motionless, the pulse quickened. "Wake up, damn you!" he demanded, slapping Sebastian's cheek. "Wake up! This kind of behavior is unsightly! I won't have it, I tell you!" As he pounded his fist against the demon's arm, the life boat drifted farther and farther from the ship into a murky, foggy, darkness. Trembling now, Ciel looked around at the new emptiness. The water around the tiny boat began to bubble.

Faces - hundreds of rotten, misshapen, and swollen faces - rose up from the depths. To his horror, he recognized them. They tugged at memories from other nightmares. In unison, they laughed. With gnarled hands, they reached up to shake the boat and whispered of things he longed to forget. But, the wounds they bore were unmistakable. They were the wounds his demon had carved into them one by one after their contract had been sealed. Three years ago, he'd mercilessly slaughtered them like pigs and spilled their innards all over the place. Now, they'd returned to haunt him. But, this time, there was no one that would stop them. Ciel buried his face against Sebastian's cheek in the crook between his shoulder and his neck. Sticky blood dripped against his temple; silky, black, hair rested against his lips.

"Wake up...wake up...don't let them touch me...not again..." The sound of grinding teeth drew closer; the boat rocked as more and more bodies climbed on. "You're abandoning me? After all this time, you're going to leave me by myself?" Directly above him, he could hear grinding teeth. "Then at least take my soul, you bastard...finish what you started..."

Cold, clammy, fingers brushed the back of his neck a moment before blunt, human, nails started to tear into his skin.

He screamed.

* * *

**OOOOOOOOO**

* * *

Sebastian lay utterly still, knowing that making any sudden movements would only worsen the situation. On top of him sat his Master, his petite hands wrapped firmly around the demon's throat. The fact that Ciel was trying to choke him should have bothered him, but it did not. He barely felt anything; even if the boy had used his full strength, he wouldn't have done any harm. Sebastian saw no recognition in his eyes, only a swirling hurricane of emotion. After three years, this still fascinated him - that such a slight frame could hold such a storm constantly bottled up within it.

"You let them touch me..." the boy ground out through clenched teeth. He shook and trembled violently, his breaths coming short, pained, bursts. After their return to the mansion from their misadventure on the ocean, Ciel had fallen ill. His body wasn't very strong to begin with, and the extreme exposure to stress and the elements had worked to set off his asthma. Though a few days had passed, the sickness had yet to leave him. The demon reached up to brush his Master's blue-grey bangs away from his feverish skin, revealing his marked eye. Within, Sebastian's true name glowed angrily, reacting to the owner's emotions.

"What is frightening you so?" Sebastian asked, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Look. I'm here and I will allow nothing to harm you."

"Their teeth...their nails...they're biting at me...they're clawing me..." Ciel continued muttering as though he didn't hear him. "And you let them...you _let them_..." With endless patience, Sebastian lowered his arm to his side and frowned. In truth, the Ciel he saw before him now made him uneasy. Over the years, he'd had plenty of nightmares. But, never had he made physical contact of his own accord. On the contrary, he hated being touched upon awakening. When Sebastian initially heard him screaming a short while ago, he'd come in to check on him as he always did in such situations. The last thing he expected was for the boy to rear up and jump on him. After making sure that Ciel landed on top of him without breaking his slender neck, Sebastian allowed things to play out at their own pace. His Master was very fragile in this state. Sharp sounds or movements only served to make him more hysterical. Because this was a new experience, however, Sebastian wasn't certain of what he should do. In the end, he decided to allow Ciel to wake up on his own, even if it meant that he would have to bear with the boy trying to choke the life out of him.

"Master..." No response. The boy lapsed into silence, but his grip did not let up. "Master, call my name," Sebastian urged carefully. "All you have to do is call my name."

"Sebas...tian..." he murmured.

"Yes, My Master, I am here."

"Sebastian..." Suddenly, Ciel's eyes seemed to focus. His pupils contracted; the symbol in his eye stopped glowing. "Sebastian?" He looked around, clearly confused, then saw the position of his hands and gasped. Immediately, he pulled away as though he'd been burned. "I...what was I doing?" The horrified look on his face was a good indicator to leave out a few details.

"Dreaming, Young Master. That's all." The demon smiled reassuringly and ran his slightly extended claws through the boy's hair. Once, Ciel had reluctantly mentioned that the feeling was soothing.

"The boat...the bodies..."

"We are home, now," Sebastian reminded him. He turned his head and saw that the candlestick he'd been holding earlier had been tossed to the ground in their brief tussle. One of the candles was still lit, dripping white wax onto the red carpet. A mental note: that would have to be cleaned up later. With a flick of his wrist, he set the three-pronged candlestick upright to avoid anything catching fire. Burn spots never looked good on anything, and replacing the entire carpet would be too much of a hassle.

Suddenly, his train of thought was entirely derailed.

His head snapped forward.

Ciel's now peaceful sleeping face came into his line of sight. Instead of getting up and breaking contact as fast as he could, the boy had lain down on him and fallen back asleep. His body had gone entirely limp, resembling a rag doll. The top of his head was tucked directly under Sebastian's chin, his toes barely reaching the demon's knees. No traces of fear remained on his features - only signs of a deep, untroubled, sleep. The experience was..._unnerving_. That his Master would reach out to him for such close contact willingly and without necessity was..._unexpected_. A few times, he'd requested for Sebastian to remain in the room until he fell asleep, but he'd never requested for him to be so...close.

"Young Master?" he ventured, suddenly unsure of how he should act. The Ciel he knew would likely hate himself if he saw this picture.

_Prideful, fiercely independent Ciel..._

"Young Master, you shouldn't stay in such a place." Gingerly, Sebastian brushed his knuckles against his Master's clammy cheek. He felt him shiver. Ciel's over-sized, white, nightshirt was hiked up past his knees, pooling around his hips. With a spark of frustration, he noted the goosebumps that covered the boy's slender legs. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, the demon reached up and pulled down one of the sheets from the bed. As he wrapped it around Ciel's body, he sighed in exasperation. Somehow, however, he found himself suppressing a chuckle. "It's unseemly for an Earl to sleep in his butler's arms," he chided half-heartedly.

_Or for prey to sleep so peacefully within the arms of its predator..._

By habit, he went through a mental checklist of the things that still needed to be done around the house before morning. Pulling out his pocket watch, he noted the time. Though the current situation was highly inappropriate in many ways, he supposed that he could accept it - for a short while. Again, he slowly ran his claws through Ciel's hair, breathing in the faint scent of lavender shampoo and sandalwood soap. He couldn't recall ever having the urge to sleep before. He'd always thought sleep was a waste of time, even for humans. However, the few times that Sebastian watched his Master sleep always gave him a sense of contentment. For now, he supposed, it wouldn't hurt to feel that once more. After all, he was certain that a situation like this would never arise again. Sebastian closed his eyes and listened to his Master's slow heart beat, basking in the rare, quiet, moment and almost wishing that morning would be just a little late in coming.

* * *

...


	2. Chapter 2

**Much Coveted Servility**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

**April, 1889**

* * *

"Please," the boy begged breathlessly. "Please, Sebastian..."

"Don't be greedy now, Young Master," the demon replied with a mischievous grin. His crimson eyes followed a drop of sweat that ran from the boy's temple, down his blushing cheek, past the flushed skin of his neck, and finally disappeared into his shirt. "We've been at this for much too long, and your body needs to rest."

"But, Sebastian...I want more..." The demon's smile widened. "I can handle it..." Ciel insisted with a frown.

"If you insist on being persistent about this, then let me inspect your body for myself first," he murmured huskily, stepping closer towards his charge. His black boots - polished to a perfect shine - squeaked as they brushed against grass wet with morning dew. The sun hadn't completely risen yet, and a fog characteristic to a beautiful day in England hovered over the horizon. The Phantomhive manor was a scenic backdrop to the two figures on its lavish lawn - one tall and dressed in butler attire and the other petite and wearing a white, padded, leather suit.

"You don't have to do that, Sebastian," the boy grumbled, his blush intensifying. As his butler came closer, the Earl stood up, only to sway on his feet. Just in time, Sebastian supported him with a hand at the small of his back. "I said no - "

"Let me touch you," the black-haired butler cut into his Master's protests. Though the Earl tried to wriggle out of his grasp, the demon ignored him. Holding the boy still with one arm, he brought his other hand to his lips and used his teeth to tug off his white glove. Ciel winced when Sebastian's cool palm settled on his forehead. A beat. "Yes, as I thought. You still have a fever."

"I said it's fine," Ciel decreed firmly, pushing at Sebastian's hand. "Someone's going to misunderstand this," he grumbled. After making sure that the boy could stand on his own, the demon stepped back and smirked.

"Since when has the Young Master been so passionate about sword fighting?" Sebastian prodded a discarded practice sword on the ground with his boot and - with a flourish - kicked it into the air. Ciel's eyes followed the blade as Sebastian caught it and presented it to him hilt first. He glared reproachfully at his instructor.

"Since when do I have to explain my orders to my butler?" the Earl quipped, grabbing the sword with unnecessary force. Animated shouting from the direction of the manor interrupted their banter. A slender young man with straight, blonde, hair sprinted at top speed across the lawn. He ran up to them and stopped directly in front of Ciel, leaning forward and breathing heavily as he readjusted his straw hat into proper place.

"Young Master," he puffed, "the Lady Elizabeth has arrived." As always when it came to his fiancé, the young Earl felt several emotions at once. Today, Elizabeth arrived to celebrate Easter. Knowing her, she'd brought a horde of people along. His heart leapt with excitement at the thought of seeing her vibrant eyes. Her warmth, kindness, and love felt like a healing balm at the oddest moments. At the same time, he dreaded the encounter and wished that she would leave. His recent nightmares and the mysteries revolving around the events on the _Campania_ made him want to focus solely on his work. Elizabeth was innocent, pure, and earnest - as all children should be. Ciel had stopped being a child long ago.

"Escort her inside, Finny," Sebastian ordered when his Master said nothing in response to the news. "We mustn't keep her waiting for long, Young Master."

_Just a little longer..._

"We're almost finished here," Ciel interjected. "Tell the Lady we will be there presently." If Finny felt any kind of surprise at the Earl's decision, he managed to hide it well. Sebastian's mirth seemed to lose some of its steam, though only Ciel - who knew him so well - could possibly make out the change. Ciel's obstinacy even in the face of his fiancé's wishes stood unprecedented. Usually, he knew better than to make the hyperactive girl wait for anything. Without argument, as was proper of a servant, Finny retreated to the manor to relay the Earl's message. Satisfied that they were alone again, Ciel took few steps back and positioned himself into a ready stance.

"Young Master, it is ungentlemanly to make a Lady wait," Sebastian admonished. The young Earl raised his chin stubbornly.

"If I blindly adhered to the rules of gentlemanly behavior, I wouldn't be a watch dog." He raised his sword. "Let's go. I don't have time for games." Sebastian moved to face him, his face still unreadable. On the proper count, the two lunged at each other. Ciel parried blow after blow. With each hit, he felt his irritation mounting. Here he was, soaked to the bone in sweat, while his opponent hardly exerted any effort. Not a hair was out of place on him.

_I'm fighting a demon_ - he argued mentally. _What was I expecting?_

He parried a blow from above. An image of his dream flashed in his mind's eye - Sebastian lying dead in his arms. Gritting his teeth, he dodged a slice from his right and tried to cut upwards. These were not fencing swords - they were sabers. Unlike the light foils that he was used to, this blade felt heavy and bulky in his slight hand. Despite practicing every day for the past week, the Earl's movements were still slow and hesitant. His arms screamed in pain from the effort of swinging such a heavy weapon; his legs protested the endless jumps and twirls. His butler, of course, excelled even in this endeavor. Good. Ciel had counted on that.

Several days ago, he'd requested that Sebastian expand his weapon training. He refused to explain why. In truth, the horrible dream of the _Campania_ and its disastrous voyage haunted him every night. Witnessing Sebastian's death over and over again in his dreams unsettled him so much that he felt determined to try and improve his self-defense somehow. He tried to reason that what he experienced was just paranoia. After all, in reality Sebastian hadn't died. In fact, though his injuries were severe, he'd recovered fairly quickly. Yet, no matter how firmly Ciel stuck to that knowledge, he couldn't shake the dread from his gut.

The two swords cried out in agony as their edges collided violently. Despite his firm resolve, Ciel was tiring quickly. He had yet to completely recover from his bout of sickness. Though Sebastian severely restrained his ability and checked his strength, each hit felt like it jarred Ciel's very bones. Yet, still the young Earl persisted. When he fell, he got back up. When he needed to cough, he forced himself to stop. He needed something - _anything_ - to help reassure him of his strength. Though, in the end, he knew the search was useless. As a King, he clearly understood the limitations of all his pawns and pieces, including himself. Though he wielded authority and power, he was - by rules and mechanics - weak in physical strength.

Sports had never been his strong suit, and he doubted that any amount of training would change that simple fact. Why did he refused to accept it, then? Blame it on Phantomhive stubbornness and pride. He pressed harder. Though he was at the limit of his endurance, he put more and more strength behind each blow. He rolled out of the way of a few more cuts before springing forward in a stab aimed for Sebastian's vulnerable side. _Apparently_, vulnerable at least. With Sebastian, no opening was ever _truly_ an opening. For the Earl, however, this was different. Any vulnerabilities he had were immediately exploited. A sharp blow struck between his shoulder blades. He stumbled forward and barely suppressed a coughing fit.

"You're wide open, Young Master. Remember to watch your back."

"Again," Ciel growled when he regained his balance. Sebastian obeyed. Once more, the two opponents jumped at each other. This time, Ciel's movements were even slower than before. His fingers felt numb; his vision spun. Suddenly, the boy's eyes widened when Sebastian's grin faded into a hard look of disapproval. Before Ciel could blink, the demon knocked away his blade. The weapon flew back behind him and plunged into the wet ground. In the confusion of the sharp movement, the Earl's foot slipped in the mud; he groaned as his shoulder took the full impact of his body hitting the earth. When the white stars of pain stopped dancing in his vision, he stole a glance at his instructor. To the Earl's surprise, Sebastian looked far from amused.

"The lesson is over," the demon declared, leaving little room for argument.

"It's over when I say it's over," Ciel challenged. He thought he saw the corner of Sebastian's eye visibly twitch. Without warning, the butler yanked the Earl up by the front of his tunic until he was face to face with him.

"Again, you're being unreasonably stubborn," he bit out dangerously. "You are sick, your movements have been getting clumsier, you're attacking blindly without paying attention to defense, and -" he abruptly paused. The uncharacteristic outburst from the demon surprised them both, it seemed. The last time Sebastian had been this impatient was when they'd first met three years ago. With a weary sigh, the demon ran his hand through his hair and lowered his charge to the ground. "This situation is ridiculous. Honestly, Young Master, what do you hope to accomplish?" When the Earl didn't reply, Sebastian grasped his chin and forced him to look in his eyes. "A gentleman must know the graceful art of fencing as part of a proper education, but _this_," he pointed to the saber, "is not a part of that. What purpose does this serve aside from bruising your body and your ego?"

"Protection," Ciel mumbled before he could stop himself. He regretted it the instant that a smug smile thinned Sebastian's lips.

"Protection?" The butler brushed a hand against the boy's eye patch. "That's what _this_ is for, isn't it? That's what _I_ am for. Just rely on me. Isn't that what the King does with his knights and pawns?" As Ciel stared into his demon's glittering, garnet, orbs only one thought crossed his mind:

_Until they break._

* * *

**OOOOOOOOO**

* * *

Elizabeth's surprise egg hunt passed by without much fuss. Though Ciel dubbed the entire event as an enormous waste of time, he admitted that he'd briefly enjoyed himself. Seeing his fiancé again had been especially gratifying. Dressed in her new, verdant green, dress and fake rabbit ears, she'd definitely taken the spotlight among the guests. When he and Sebastian won the hunt, he'd even allowed himself to feel elated when she hugged him. He recalled how he used to flinch from any sort of touch, even Sebastian's. The handicap still troubled him, but the situation wasn't nearly as bad as it used to be. He supposed that Elizabeth was partially responsible.

_My Lizzy… _

She touched him whenever she could – a hug, a shy peck on the cheek, a hand wrapped around his. She couldn't have possibly known how much he feared physical contact. But, even without that knowledge, the girl somehow managed to chase away some of the darkness that surrounded him. Like the Spring rain that washed over a Winter-dry hill, she helped him see that life moved forward. For that, he treasured her. For that, he hated her. Hope had no place in his life now. Only victory. Only pride.

By the time Elizabeth and the guests left, night had fallen. They'd wasted the entire day on frivolity, much to Ciel's chagrin. He only had a few hours to work before retiring to bed. Though, if the need arose, he planned to stay up late and finish the more urgent tasks on his list. Not even Sebastian could persuade him to rest. As soon as the company left the mansion, Ciel retired to his study with only a candlestick as his companion. Now, dressed in a relaxed robe and loose pants, Ciel sipped a cup of tea and drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. The drinks Sebastian made always soothed his nerves. Over the years, the butler had truly developed a magnificent talent for brewing various types of tea.

_Spicier than usual_ – he observed. Had Sebastian used a new kind of herb? He tugged a white handkerchief out of his side pocket and wiped some sweat off his brow. Either the hot tea was raising his temperature or his fever was back for another losing battle. A thought suddenly flitted across his mind. Reaching into one of the small drawers under his desk, he pulled out a golden chain of lockets.

_It's my treasure_ – the Undertaker's voice whispered in his memory. Closer inspection of the intriguing chain after their return to the manor revealed that the lockets resembled traditional hair jewelry, a type of memento some kept after a loved one's death. Though they looked like lockets, Ciel still had to find a way to open them. As far as he could tell, this wasn't possible. Either that, or there was a special way of doing so that only the owner knew about. One particular piece captured his attention –

_**Claudia P.**_

_**13 July 1866**_

Out of all seven lockets, he'd inspected this one the most over the past few days. The craftsmanship was impeccable – gold complimented with insets of amber. The creator twined the hair itself into a looping figure eight. Symbolically, it resembled the sign for "infinity". There were a few other strange details he couldn't quite make sense of, however – such as the circular symbol around the infinity or the loops that resembled the leaves of a branch. Why would a former Shinigami keep such a sentimental thing? Ciel clearly remembered the look on the Undertaker's face when he lost the trinket. Shock, fear, a brief anger, then acceptance. If this thing meant so much to him, how could he have allowed Ciel to keep it for so long?

_**Claudia P.**_

Phantomhive? But, no. As far as he knew, none of his predecessors held that name. A furrow creased his brow. Reaching into another drawer, he withdrew a set of hardcover books bearing the Phantomhive family crest on the front. The family registry. The gears turned in his thoughts as he flipped through pages of records, looking for any entry that contained "Claudia". A part of him hoped to find something related to that in this book, while another wasn't so sure. Did he want the Undertaker to be related to his family somehow? As far as he knew, the former Shinigami had only ever served in a professional capacity before his involvement in the _Campania_ events. Unfortunately, many records and documents had been lost in the fire three years prior. Perhaps some of the older records would have made his life – and his job – a little simpler. Ciel grinned. Not that he didn't appreciate a challenge.

_No Claudia anywhere_ – He snapped the book shut and sneezed when it kicked up a cloud of dust. _I'll have to have Sebastian clean these out. _Lost in thought, the young Earl rubbed his chin.

_**13 July 1866**_ – the date nagged at him for some reason. Historically, it meant nothing. He couldn't recall any events from that particular date from his studies. Unfortunately, though his predecessors had kept old newspapers on file for just such occasions, they'd all been burned away with the previous mansion. _There is one more place I could check, but it won't be open until tomorrow_. Absentmindedly, Ciel dabbed at his face again with the handkerchief and fanned himself with his hand. An odd haze settled over his thoughts; he blinked to clear his suddenly blurry vision. Then it clicked. He quickly glanced at his tea cup and clenched his jaw.

_It can't be…_

He pulled the cord to ring the servant's bell at his desk then changed his mind. Scooting back his chair, the young Earl jumped down and staggered towards the door. As he pulled it open, he saw Sebastian standing on the other side, his hand raised as though he'd just planned to knock.

"You called, Young Master?" he asked innocently.

"What did you put in my tea?" Ciel demanded hotly. His knees felt like rubber.

"You don't look at all well."

"This is _your_ doing. Answer me. What did you put in my tea?"

"Your tea? It's just the usual evening brand that I make for you, Young Master."

_He has the nerve to feign ignorance? _– Ciel wanted to reprimand him. His hand flew towards the butler's chest, but dropped mid-way. Sebastian caught him as he careened forward and lifted him up to rest against his shoulder.

"You'll regret….this," the boy threatened faintly even as his eyes drooped closed. Beside him, the demon smiled.

"I'm sure you'll do everything to make that true tomorrow, my Master."

* * *

**OOOOOOOO**

* * *

The boy's fortitude really impressed him sometimes. Though the butler had added a fair amount of Laudanum to his tea, the boy still clung to awareness. After the incident at the Earl's study, the demon carried him down the hallway to his bedroom, hoping that his charge would finally get a decent rest. However –

"Sebastian?"

"Yes, Young Master?"

"Date…1866…does it mean…anything to you?" In respect for the boy's almost blind devotion to his work, Sebastian suppressed his urge to chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. Even in this state, his Master was first and foremost a Phantomhive workaholic.

"Not particularly," the butler replied, slowing his pace. Choosing to drug his Master wasn't to his taste, but neither was using his powers to force him to sleep. A little Laundanum wouldn't hurt, especially since his physician had recommended it to soothe his cough at night. "Why do you ask, Young Master?"

"Th' locket…'s the year on it…" This time, Sebastian had to work harder to keep a straight face. Hearing Ciel slurring his words was a priceless experience that he wanted to savor.

"Which locket is this?" he urged, his eyes softening. The boy didn't reply, but Sebastian felt no surprise. He'd sensed him drifting off the moment the puffs of air that tickled his neck lengthened to full breaths. Eventually, he made it to the door of the bedroom. Without letting go of either Ciel or the candlestick he used for illumination, the demon flicked his finger and unlocked the door. He stepped into the room, warmed pleasantly by the nearby fireplace. Just as he set down the candlestick, his Master reached up and wrapped his arms around Sebastian's neck. Frowning, the demon loosened the boy's grip so he could put him on the bed.

"Don't go…" the soft words, whispered right into his ear, froze him in place. _Not again_. This side of his Master distinctly perturbed him. During the past several days, he saw changes in the young Earl that confused and mystified him. The boy who hated fencing now wanted to learn swordplay. The child that despised being touched now slept trustingly within the embrace he should fear most. The Ciel that was independent, aloof, untouchable, unbreakable – _that_ was the soul that he respected and yearned to devour. This kind of vulnerability – this kind of trust – should have disgusted him. Yet…

Disgruntled and perplexed by his own indecisiveness, Sebastian grimaced. He struggled between two options: force or coercion. Because he reasoned that the Laudanum had knocked the boy out cold, he knew the latter would fail. Yet, using force in response to this felt somehow wrong. Why didn't he just toss him onto the mattress and be done with it? In his state, he wouldn't feel a thing. Damn his diplomacy. Was this what spending so much time at a human's side did to his character? More than a little annoyed with himself, the demon finally settled for prying his troublesome Master off of his neck and putting him to bed using as few movements as possible. With the same haste, he removed his velvet robe to make him more comfortable. As he did so, something shiny slipped out of the garment's front pocket. He caught it before it hit the floor and inspected it closely.

_1866…does it mean anything to you?_ – slitted pupils narrowed as red eyes roamed over seven unique lockets attached to a thin chain of gold. He recalled that this had belonged to the Undertaker. Unconsciously, he pressed a hand to his chest as though remembering the nearly fatal wound he'd received from the former Shinigami. He spent enough time to memorize the details on each item separately then set the chain down on his Master's bedside table. He had a strong feeling that the Undertaker would cross their path again, especially if this trinket remained Ciel's safekeeping. Until then, he was certain that his Master would investigate it to the best of his ability. Checking his pocket watch for the time, Sebastian sat down on the edge of the bed and studied the Earl's features, wondering why he felt relieved when he saw how peaceful they were.


	3. Chapter 3

**Much Coveted Servility**

**Chapter 3**

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**Early May, 1889**

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The London Library, founded in 1841, was currently England's largest resource of literature and historical documentation. It had been blessed with the luck of attracting the attention of the cream of the crop in high society – wealthy barons, earls, nobles, and talented writers donated towards its construction. For this very reason, Ciel believed that if he needed to find an obscure piece of information, this library would be the place to look. The mysterious name on the locket haunted him, as did the thought about why the Undertaker would show sentimentality by keeping a piece of jewelry. He hypothesized, at first, that the lockets belonged to his previous victims – perhaps people that he hadn't wanted to forget.

_Is a Shinigami even capable of such feelings?_ – this question was quite an obstacle. A sudden jerk snapped him out of his reverie. His carriage had arrived at St. James Square. Sebastian hopped out first and assisted him down the steps. Outside, a freezing wind made Ciel wrap his cloak tighter around his body. He shivered and coughed a few times to clear his throat.

"Sebastian," the boy held out his hand. Without missing a beat, the demon handed him his cane – a beautifully crafted rod of black-lacquered ivory with gold accents. Tipping up his hat so he could see better, the young Earl examined the library building. Towering three stories upwards, the library was an impressive sight indeed. The entrance consisted of a pair of wooden double-doors set in a wall of rain-soaked, white, stone. In front, a sizeable courtyard sported a garden with several types trees, bushes, and flowers. He'd only ever set foot in it once before – long ago, when his predecessors were still alive. Seeing what renovations his society's generous donation had purchased was an activity he looked forward to.

Motioning for his butler to follow, Ciel walked towards the doors at a lazy pace, enjoying the fresh air despite what would normally be considered somber weather. He watched children running in the streets, laughing gaily as they romped around in puddles of mud and rain water. A part of him wondered what that would be like. The heady smell of meat pastries wafted towards him, reminding him that he hadn't eaten much for breakfast that morning. All around, the city of London buzzed with life and commotion. Newspaper boys solicited their goods at the top of their voice, luxurious carriages zoomed by, and Gentlemen strolled down the streets with their Ladies smiling as they windows shopped. Reluctantly, the young Earl admitted that sometimes London was a nice place to be.

Sebastian held the heavy library doors open for him as he entered. With practiced movements, the butler helped his Master shrug out of his thick, wool, cloak and deposited it on a nearby coat hanger. His hat was also removed. The air inside the building smelled like stale parchment and dust. Ciel made his way over to the front desk and rang the bell for service. A few minutes later, a young woman appeared from behind a bookshelf in the back of the room. When she made it to the desk, she took off her pair of heavy spectacles and smiled.

"Good morning, My Lord. My name is Andrea Lowell, and I am one of the librarians here. How may I assist you?" Despite her drab clothing and ink-stained fingers, Ciel thought she was rather pretty. He couldn't be sure, but she looked to be in her early twenties. She put her hair up in a tight bun on top of her head, but a few brown locks fell forward to rest on her cheeks. Sparkling, vivid, blue eyes looked at him with genuine kindness – something that was difficult to come by in his experience. In some ways, her aura reminded him of Lizzy's. The young Earl inclined his head respectfully.

"I am looking for an old newspaper from a particular date. I assume this facility keeps such things on hand?"

"We do, indeed, Sir!" she replied enthusiastically. "Please, follow me." Ciel's heeled shoes tapped neatly on the hardwood floor as the woman lead them to the back of the library. The main hall itself was rather narrow, but four sets of stairs rose up to allow visitors to reach the second floor. Overall, the library gave the illusion that its walls were made entirely of books. One, large window decorated the very end of the hall, where a set of lavish curtains were draped aside to reveal a stunning view of the city. "May I inquire as to which date My Lord is looking for?"

"July of 1866." For a moment, the girl paused in mid-step, nearly tripping over her skirt. As Ciel raised a brow in surprise, she recovered.

"I see," she affirmed hesitantly. "Well, I think My Lord will find our collection quite extensive." His eyes shot sideways towards Sebastian. Apparently, the demon had also caught the librarian's reaction. He pressed his fingers to his lips to show that they should just go along with the flow for the moment. Eventually, Andrea led them to a walled off section of the library. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small, golden, key and inserted it into the lock of the door in front of her. The room was dark. As she showed them in, Andrea pulled out a box of matches from her skirt and lit a few oil lamps that rested on a set of desks. The walls here were covered in bookshelves with a few display cases littered here and there. The young woman immediately apologized for the mess, explaining that due to recent renovations, this section had been abruptly moved to allow the workers space. Ciel pursed his lips as he examined the surrounding clutter, preparing himself for a long workday.

"I'm so sorry, My Lord. I don't think I caught your name." Her eyes flitted over the ring on his thumb briefly.

"Phantomhive," the Earl declared proudly. "Earl Ciel Phantomhive." The young woman blushed and hurried to curtsy.

"My apologies, My Lord. I didn't recognize you!" For a moment, Ciel stared down at her bowed head. Naturally, she hadn't. First, most saw him as nothing more than a wandering child who'd gotten away from his parents' keen eyes. Second, those who did recognize the Phantomhive name knew only his predecessors. The situation irritated him to no end, but he supposed that - in time - he would get used to it. Appearances could be deceiving. While his childish looks were a cause of many misunderstandings, they also gave him an edge in some cases.

"Leave us," the young Earl commanded. "My butler will fetch you if we need further assistance." When she slipped out of the room with a silent bow, he turned back to the shelves. "Sebastian, light as many lamps as you can without burning this place down. If I'm going to find anything around here, I need more light."

"Yes, My Lord." Ciel forced his thoughts away from the demon, focusing on finding the correct newspaper. Fortunately, most of them were bound in leather books. The coverings served to protect them from damaging elements such as the constant moisture - and mildew - that pervaded all buildings in England. As he leafed through each one and tossed it aside, he felt his frustration mount. None of the books were in any remote chronological order. At this rate, he would be stuck here for hours. After shifting his weight between his feet to alleviate some of their soreness, he picked up a few volumes and took a seat on one of the chairs. Though he turned his nose up at the dust on it at first, the tingling in his heels won over his distaste for dirtying his tunic. The shoes were another product of London's constantly shifting fashion. He'd purchased them on Lizzy's whim. Higher heels meant he would stand taller than her, but in turn he suffered from severe discomfort.

"Are you alright, Young Master?" Sebastian's voice cut into his thoughts. He looked up from his chosen work place, surprised to see that the butler was standing directly above him. In the flickering lamp light, he looked more pale than usual. In stark contrast, his red eyes glimmered like brilliant rubies. The image brought up things he hadn't meant to think of this day - nightmares he swore to leave buried at the manor in favor of having a productive few hours to himself. Doing his best to conceal his sudden uneasiness, he waved him off.

"I'm fine." He gasped when Sebastian's gloved hand settled against his cheek.

"You don't have a fever, at least. It's much too soon for you to be out and about in such hideous weather, Young Master."

"If you have time to talk of ridiculous things, Sebastian," Ciel chided as he brushed aside the demon's hand, "then I have something for you to do. See what you can find out about the date I mentioned." His mind strayed to the young librarian's odd reaction.

"The girl?" Sebastian asked, a mischievous note in his voice. Ciel glanced up at him.

"You know what to do."

"Yes, My Lord." With that, he disappeared. In the wake of his absence, Ciel felt a little empty. He hated the odd ache he experienced in his chest when Sebastian left his side. Naturally, he blamed his recurring nightmares. His discomposure could be explained with logic. Sebastian was his butler - his servant, his strongest pawn, and someone he could trust. No matter the situation, by contract he could never betray him or lie. _Anyone_ would be upset at the prospect of losing such a piece. Certainly, he wasn't_ truly_ lonely. Certainly, his feelings didn't go deeper than that. As he continued to assure himself of this, his movements became more hurried. Soon, a rather sizable pile of bound newspapers sat next to him. Just as he prepared to give in and call for Sebastian's demonic assistance, he finally found what he'd been searching for -

**_13 July, 1866_**

The paper was covered in massive, dark brown, age spots. The corners were wrinkled. Clearly, this issue had seen better days. A few headlines spoke of major news in the world, but none really caught his attention. He leafed through several pages, squinting to read the tiny font on the obituaries. At last, he came to the last page. From the very bottom corner, a headline jumped out at him in bold, black, letters:

_**Misfortune Strikes on Friday the 13th! Storm Claims Six Ships Off New Zealand Coast!**_

Six ships _at once_? Why wasn't this a major headline? The gears in his mind began to turn more vigorously. Despite his rush of excitement, however, the article disappointed him. Suspiciously, it only consisted of two paragraphs that mentioned vague information. Apparently, a mysterious storm sank several cargo ships carrying cedar in various places off the coast of New Zealand. Though the ships were all lost beyond assistance, only ten casualties were reported. The author then glossed over the entire event by jokingly blaming it on the misfortunes that normally occurred on Friday the 13th. The incredulity of such a large event not making the front page or attracting more attention bothered him. For a disaster of such magnitude to produce only ten deaths was also quite the mystery.

_What about Claudia P?_ - Ciel turned to the obituaries from that day. As he suspected, her name wasn't mentioned. Not that this signified much, for not everyone who died appeared in the obituaries. Still, if Claudia P. had been a Phantomhive or another figure from nobility, surely her name would have cropped up _somewhere_. Looking around to make sure he was alone, Ciel silently tore out the newspaper page, folded it up, and tucked it into the lapel of his tunic. Fortunately, he already knew where he would go next. The paper had mentioned that all the sunken ships were cargo ships. Though the event itself had occurred years ago, there was one person who would be able to tell him anything he needed to know about lost trade ships.

Lau.

Loathe as he was to see the man's smug face and watch him gloat over a pipe of tobacco, he had no other options. Lau was a very useful pawn, albeit an unpredictable one at times. He imagined how the conversation would play out as he doused the surrounding oil lamps. Suddenly, a thought struck him. Where was his butler? Still investigating? Because he couldn't be certain that the demon hadn't come across a lead, he hesitated to summon him. Instead, he picked his way through the library in search of him, peeking around each towering bookshelf one by one. The sun shone brightly through the large window in the main hall, evidence that he'd been working for over an hour. Odd. It didn't usually take Sebastian this long to do anything. Ciel passed the last corner of the library when he heard it -

"Please, wait...I truly don't know..." The whisper was so faint that, had the library not been deathly quiet, he probably wouldn't have heard it. The sound had come from what resembled a storage room. No lights were on inside.

"Are you sure about that?" Ciel's blood froze. He would have recognized _that_ voice even if he'd been blindfolded. Eyes wide, he crept towards the doorway, his senses on high alert. He didn't want to be seen, so trying to look inside the room wasn't an option. Instead, he stayed around the corner and listened. From within, he heard shuffling - the sound of fabric shifting. A feminine gasp. An all-too-familiar chuckle. "Hurry, now. My Master doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"But, like I said. He only came in once, and I didn't see his face," the same feminine voice protested. "Please, Sir. We can't...not here..."

"Why not, Andrea?" Sebastian asked in a silky murmur. "No one can see us here. We are completely..." something fell to the ground in a swish of cotton, "...utterly..." the sound of a sharp gasp, "...alone." A ragged moan. Ciel felt his face catch fire. For the first time, the young Earl felt entirely conflicted about making a decision. Should he stay and continue listening to this spectacle? Or should he move away and...and what? Give his butler privacy to seduce a woman in public? On some level, he wondered if he should feel outraged. The act itself was scandalous, but he _trusted_ Sebastian. Didn't he? The demon wouldn't be engaging in such behavior unless there was a good reason for it. He tried to focus on the intelligible bits of conversation among the moans and sighs. Apparently, the woman knew something important. As the seconds passed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He couldn't see what was happening; his ignorance to such matters didn't help. Ciel could only envision one thing for certain - Sebastian's cunning smirk. No matter the situation, no matter how passionate the woman's feelings were or how much she lost herself in the moment, Sebastian would _never_ be lost. The demon would never allow himself to indulge in the moment or lose sight of his goals. He was always in control - always smiling.

"What is it, Andrea? You look flushed. Should I stop?" More shuffling. Another gasp. "Your skin is so soft. Let me taste it while you tell me more about this gentleman visitor." Ciel couldn't suppress his curiosity. Before he could stop himself, he peeked around the corner. His pupils dilated to adjust to the darkness. Within, he saw two figures moving. Sebastian pressed the librarian woman they'd met earlier against the wall. Her hair bun had fallen loose. From his angle, he could see her shoulders quivering as she struggled against the demon's grip. Sebastian, to his surprise, was facing him. But, for the moment, he didn't seem to notice his Master. His attention was completely focused on the woman's face. At some point, he'd unbuttoned the front of her blouse. Her bare chest pressed up against his silk shirt. As the young Earl surmised, the butler was indeed smiling.

"He came to...to...ask about the Earl."

"And?" Sebastian drawled.

"Earlier...he saw the Earl and asked me...what he was looking for..."

"And what did you tell him?"

"Just that...ah!...newspapers..."

"Who was it?"

"Not sure...wore black...long, silver, hair."

"Good," the demon purred. "Now your reward." It was not the first kiss Ciel had ever seen between adults, though what he witnessed now would haunt him for some time to come. Not because of how inappropriate the scene itself was, but because of a string of seemingly inconsequential elements that caught his attention. The way the woman's face was reflected in Sebastian's eyes; the way the demon's strong hands kept her from falling when her knees went weak; the way the woman seemed to drown in a pleasure he couldn't understand. Separately, these things posed no threat to Ciel's calm. Yet, together, they appealed to a side of him that he couldn't always control -

His curiosity.

Suddenly, Ciel felt a powerful urge to tear them apart. He couldn't rationalize the impulse with logic, so he was able to ignore it. But, that didn't stop the unpleasant emotions that rampaged through him. In many other instances, he'd wrapped his arms around Sebastian's neck like that when his butler carried him. He'd been that close to him - had touched his face, his clothes, even his hair. The same gestures as this woman. Yet, not. Could a touch really bring so much pleasure? The only pleasant sensations he could use as a reference from memory were physicals ones, such as eating sweets or taking hot baths after a long day. Yet that didn't seem to be the same kind of pleasure that this woman was experiencing. And from what? From touching her lips to Sebastian's? As an afterthought, his hand came up to brush across his mouth.

Nothing.

Did it have to be someone of the opposite sex? He'd seen plenty of adults engage in such illicit behavior, especially when he visited Lau. Up until this moment, he'd never wondered about why they did so. He assumed it was all just a part of being an adult, an unnecessary waste of time that people with too few responsibilities partook in. But, the way the woman's face flushed a bright crimson, the way Sebastian's mouth tilted in a lustful, dangerous smirk, the way his partner sighed, and the way the demon's eyes glowed in the darkness...the effect of witnessing it all made Ciel's breath catch in his throat. Would it feel like that if he kissed Elizabeth? He shrugged the image away almost immediately. No, he wouldn't disrespect Lizzy with such thoughts.

_This is ridiculous_ - he decided. No longer willing to be a part of this insanity, he cleared his throat. The woman would have jumped out of her skin had Sebastian not been holding her so firmly. She gave a little shriek and hurried to cover herself, spouting a long train of unintelligible apologies and excuses. Meanwhile, Sebastian looked entirely composed. He looked at Ciel with eyes devoid of either surprise or remorse. That's when the young Earl understood. No doubt about it. The bastard had known that he was standing there the entire time! The blush on his cheeks intensified tenfold. Ciel wasn't sure what to feel first - shock, embarrassment, or fury. Once she finished straightening her clothing, the girl rushed out of the room, too mortified to even glance at the intruder.

"I hope you had a good reason for that," Ciel bit out when they were alone.

"In fact I did," the butler replied serenely.

"And?" Ciel urged past a wave of impatience.

"It seems we were followed here." With a snap, he straightened his own clothes to perfection and readjusted his gloves. "I also found an item you may take interest in, Young Master." Reaching up, he plucked a small book off of a shelf on the nearby wall, dusted it off, and offered it to the young Earl.

"What's this?" For the moment, Ciel decided to let go of his anger and focus on the task at hand. He thumbed through aged pages of what appeared to be a journal.

"I assume the Young Master already knows about the large amount of ships that sank on the specific date you mentioned." Ciel nodded distractedly. "This journal was recovered from one of the ships along with a mass amount of translated foreign books."

"I thought they were cargo ships," Ciel stated, more than a little peeved that his butler already knew more than he did about the situation.

"All but one. It seems that one of the casualties was a wealthy nobleman from France. He was transporting a rare collection of written works to his new home when misfortune struck."

"And since he's dead now..." The boy frowned at the text. "Do we have a name?"

"Even better." Sebastian looked pleased with himself. "It seems that he has relatives here in England. In fact, one of his distant cousins is a Baron."

"Which one?"

"Baron Ralph Constantine. Have you heard this name before, Young Master?" Ciel pondered for a moment then shook his head. "He isn't very well known because he travels so much that he is rarely in residence. The only lead I was able to find was the name of his young son, who is attending the famous Weston College."

"Weston?" The young Earl looked surprised.

"Indeed. It would seem that he is a fifth year there now."

"That complicates things. It's not as simple as just going there and asking to see someone." He continued to flip through journal pages until Sebastian stepped towards him and leaned forward.

"Allow me, Young Master." Placing one hand under Ciel's to prop up the book, Sebastian licked his thumb and began to turn the pages. Ciel felt like his heart had stopped. From this angle, the demon's lips were so close that he could feel him breathing. His luminous eyes moved across lines of text, intensely focused. Desperately, Ciel tore his gaze away from his butler's face and forced himself to stare at the journal. Inwardly, he chided himself severely. This wasn't the first time Sebastian had been this close to him. In fact, on countless other occasions, he'd stood even closer. So, why was he suddenly so aware of him? Was it because of what he'd seen him do to the young librarian? "Here it is," the demon cut into his thoughts. Ciel glanced at the spot he pointed to and immediately went white as a sheet.

"That's..." he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. There, masterfully sketched, was the symbol that had been branded into him so many years ago. Seeing it again made his heart leap into his throat. Impossible.

"I think that we will have to pay this Constantine boy a visit at school. Don't you, Young Master?"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay on this chapter. We were moving. Now, we are in a new place, and I can start writing again :D Thank you for all the adds and favorites that you guys left while I was gone. I look forward to hearing from you guys again this chapter!

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**Much Coveted Servility**

**Chapter 4**

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**Early May, 1889**

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Sebastian Michaelis stared at the small, scantily clad, woman before him with with eyes devoid of any sympathy. He was mildly annoyed, for this particular guest had arrived entirely unannounced at an hour completely inappropriate for company, especially that of a young lady. Though, Sebastian wasn't certain that this particular girl held any qualms about hurting her reputation. Outside, rain clouds had gathered to obscure the evening sky, drenching the land with torrents of cold water. Periodically, lightning pierced the air, illuminating the evening with flashes of blue, white, and purple.

"Miss Ran-Mao," the demon greeted, his voice nearly lost over the sounds of the downpour. His gaze followed the lines of her curves, clearly outlined by the wet cheongsam that now clung to her like a second skin. The embroidered flowers on the back of the dress were obscured with soot and traces of blood. "Where is your brother?" he asked with a trace of sarcasm and a raised brow. Typically, the two were inseparable.

"Attacked. Sent me to ask for help." Well, that would explain her state of dishabille - torn dress, mussed hair, a quickly swelling bruise on her jaw. Behind her, at the base of the entry staircase to the manor house, stood an exhausted steed. Had she ridden here all the way from East End in London? The notion was rather ludicrous. It typically took almost two hours by carriage to complete the trip.

"Come inside, then," he offered, holding open the massive door to the manor. Lightning flashed, illuminating a face set into a grim mask of determination.

"No time. We go now." Sebastian tilted his head to the side, his curiosity piqued. Who would dare to attack Lau, of all people? Naturally, he made many enemies in his trade, but up until this point the man had proven himself to be more than capable of handling things like this. He had to admit that he'd never seen Ran-Mao this flustered before. Though she maintained her typical cold mask of seriousness, he could sense that she was barely clinging to her composure.

"How frustrating it must be to have let down your employer," he teased. The deliberate cruelty had the effect he expected on her - none at all. She blinked once and continued to stare at him. Sebastian snapped open his pocket watch, checked the time, and considered his options. Midnight. Less than an hour ago, he'd finally convinced his troublesome Master to go to sleep. Waking him up at this point would negate all of those efforts. Not to mention, the boy had been exhausted after their particularly violent fencing match.

_If he finds out about this, he will definitely want to come._

"We go now," Ran-Mao repeated, grabbing the front of Sebastian's tunic. Apparently, diplomatic negotiations were about to come to a close. Not that the Phantomhive household owed Lau any favors. They held no formal agreement of mutual protection. By the book, Lau was on his own. Yet, something nagged at the butler - a thought about the research he and Ciel had performed a few days past in the London Library. At the time, they'd made plans to visit Lau in order to learn more about the series of trade ships that sank in 1866. Because they'd been followed, they decided to wait a few days before making an East End house call. Was this incident related somehow?

_He won't be happy about this..._

"Alright, Miss Ran-Mao," Sebastian conceded with a smile, "let's see what trouble your brother has been causing." Without waiting for a reply, the butler leaned down and tossed the disheveled girl onto his back. Glancing at his pocket watch one last time, he took off at his full demonic speed.

_I need to be back before dawn._

However, when they arrived at Kon Ron headquarters, Sebastian was forced to reassess the amount of time it would take to finish this particular task. The entire building, along with two ships, was in flames. The heady smell of singed opium filled the air. Broken glass littered the streets. Not even the heavy rain could put out the fire. The storm upset the water, and the canal seethed, churning the ships upon it. Strong thunder storms like this were common in the summers of England, as were fires. Not many would readily suspect arson. Whoever had planned this knew what they were doing.

Upon seeing the destruction, Ran-Mao slipped off his shoulders. Sebastian was mildly taken aback by her complete lack of shock at being hauled at inhuman speed across the countryside. The average woman would have screamed or demanded an explanation, but Ran-Mao took everything in stride. Her large, listless, eyes examined the ruined building dispassionately. If one was to judge by outward appearances, one could have labeled her an innocent bystander caught in a situation she didn't understand. Yet, Sebastian knew better. Beneath her wet skin, he could feel a cluster of tension. A muscle twitched in her jaw; her hands clenched into tight fists at her side.

"You seem awfully calm," he pointed out. Suddenly, an explosion tore through the front wall. Even though they stood relatively far away from the source, the blast mushroomed outward and expanded to envelop a half block radius. Only Sebastian's inhuman speed saved them from being overwhelmed. He frowned. If anyone had managed to survive the fire, they'd all just been torn to pieces. Chunks of debris - painted concrete, ornate wood, and stained glass - all flew high into the air and rained down in a flaming hailstorm. The building vomited forth black plumes of smoke.

"Brother Lau," Ran-Mao whispered. Surprised, he looked down at her. He half expected for her to shed a few tears, but she looked as composed as ever. The demon examined all possible places where enemies could hide. When he returned to the girl's side, he was thoroughly miffed. And here he'd hoped for some honest bloodshed.

"What happened here, Miss Ran-Mao?" the butler inquired seriously this time.

"Men came. Set fire. Took Brother Lau."

"He's been kidnapped?" the demon asked incredulously. Somehow, he couldn't imagine such a thing taking place. Though he acted like a complete fool most times, Lau could definitely handle himself in combat.

"Dead men," she elaborated. Sebastian raised a brow. Now _there_ was an interesting detail. Dead men. Judging from his experience of the events in recent months, he could only assume that she meant the Bizzare Dolls. He branched out his senses, suddenly on high alert. Sebastian whirled around when an all too familiar voice rang out behind them. Where dead bodies came back to life to devour the living, the Undertaker wasn't far behind. Thankfully, his Master was safely out of harm's way.

"How unusual to see you out of the Earl's company." A lone shape stood atop one of the nearby buildings. Silver hair and black robes swayed in the burning wind. Although rain fell in roaring torrents from the clouds above, the man seemed entirely unaffected. His clothes were soaked, but he didn't seem to care. His oddly shaped hat somehow stayed in place on his head, flattening his long bangs over his face to hide his eyes. "I'd hoped to see him tonight. He has something that belongs to me," the Shinigami sighed dramatically.

"Sorry to disappoint," Sebastian replied in a forced monotone.

"Where is Brother Lau?" Ran-Mao demanded, interrupting them. The Undertaker glanced at her, his smile widening. White teeth flashed with the lightning.

"Dead, I presume." In a flash, the girl dashed forward. She used a few barrels and crates for leverage to jump up to where her enemy perched, a look of promised death in her eye. The Undertaker didn't flinch. In the next flare of lightning, he whipped out his Death Scythe and countered her strike. Briefly, Sebastian wondered at the Shinigami's complete lack of subtlety. Showing his true nature to this human was a risk. Yet, Ran-Mao did not look shocked. She attacked her enemy with a flurry of slashes. The butler admitted that she was very skilled. In some ways, she reminded him of Agni and his incredible fighting prowess. Still, she wasn't fast enough. The Undertaker blocked and dodged her attacks with ease, looking more than a little amused. When one of his swings nearly decapitated Ran-Mao, Sebastian decided to intervene.

**_You left him unguarded, didn't you? How remiss of you as a butler..._**

A whisper broke through his concentration. The voice came from several directions all at once, each word causing tangible pain in his skull. Confused, he looked up at the Undertaker. The Shinigami was still engaged in combat with Ran-Mao, but his hat had been swept off his head. Those eerie, green, eyes stared at him, glimmering with gleeful madness.

**_How do you imagine the Earl will feel when he awakens to danger and finds his demon gone?_**

Sebastian landed on a rooftop and stopped. His heart skipped a beat. True, he'd abandoned his Master, but the manor wasn't defenseless. The servants would be able to protect him should anything go awry.

**_You think that will be enough to stop me? Ask yourself this, demon - should you be dallying here instead of rushing to your Master's side?_**

A sharp, burning, pain on his hand caused him to wince. He brought his arm up in front of him, his eyes widening in surprise. His mark of contract - normally black, void-like, and clear - now looked faded. As the pain rose in intensity, a few drops of blood welled up from his skin.

**_He looks so innocent in his sleep. How easy it would be to reach over and snap his frail little neck..._**

Cold sweat broke out on Sebastian's back. Was Ciel hurt? It would take too long for him to get back to the manor. He tried to tell himself to stay rational. If Ciel was in danger, he would summon him. All it would take is -

**_He can't very well call for you if he's bound, can he?_**

Utterly confused by the turn of events, the demon followed the Undertaker's frenzied movements as he dodged Ran-Mao's skilled attacks. The mark of contract on his hand continued to pulsate in agony. Watching the silver-haired man jump around wildly made him want to tear him limb from limb. Was this one an illusion? How dare he threaten his Master? How dare he touch him with his vile hands?

**_I'll erase you from his life, along with that accursed mark._**

With a flourish of his cloak, the Shinigami vaulted into the air and landed gracefully on the tip of a nearby flagpole. "Unfortunately, as much fun as I'm having with this little game of tag, I must take my leave." He cackled viciously. "And if you still want to find your Chinaman, I suggest you look at the bottom of the pier."

This time, Sebastian couldn't contain himself. Anger and concern for Ciel pushed him to mount his own offensive. The demon became a blur of black and glowing red as he shot forth towards his enemy, aiming for anything vital that he could break or tear. Unfortunately, just like that night on the _Campania_, the Undertaker's speed and agility proved to be second to none. No matter how many times he tried to catch him, his claws passed through him as though his body consisted of smoke. Then, just as he thought that he'd finally landed a hit, he felt a tugging on the nape of his jacket.

_Sebastian!_ - Ciel's voice echoed in his thoughts like the ominous tolling of bells. Before his disbelieving eyes, the Undertaker vanished along with his surroundings. Dimly, he realized that his Master was summoning him.

* * *

**OOOOO**

* * *

The next time Sebastian opened his eyes, he found himself standing in the middle of Ciel's bedroom. Immediately, he sensed that he was not alone. Fortunately, he'd appeared soundlessly. This gave him an edge on the figure that stood right next to his Master's bed. The demon was never one to act in haste, however. He decided to observe the intruder for a few moments to try and understand more about his intentions. Though the murky darkness would have disoriented the average human, Sebastian's demonic eyes easily allowed him to see clearly through the blackness.

He saw a humanoid shape - a man with silver hair and green, eyes. For a split second, a rush of adrenaline nearly made him jump forward and attack. But, the moment that he recognized the intruder's identity, he calmed. No mad laughter, no enormous Death Psythe, no aura of death and decay. The figure did not belong to the Undertaker as he'd originally presumed. Nevertheless, sharp eyes followed the man's every movement. His Master tossed and turned restlessly, mumbling something in his sleep. He'd thrown off his covers, revealing skin dampened with cold sweat. Cautiously, Sebastian watched the man in black pick up a corner of the blanket and carefully tuck it back around the young Earl.

"He was shouting so loudly that I heard him upstairs - _says Wilde_," the figure divulged somberly. Then, sorrowfully - "He even scared away the mice - _says Emily_." From the man's shoulder, twin snakes of varying colors slithered down his arm and slipped onto the mattress, settling next to either side of the young Earl's body. The two animals watched the boy with eerie gazes. If Sebastian didn't know better, he would have labeled their odd behavior as apprehension.

"Snake," Sebastian returned in a low whisper. "You should not be in the Young Master's chambers without permission." He glanced at the entrance. "Was the door unlocked?"

"Locks are bothersome - _says Donne_," he responded crisply.

"So are rules," Sebastian countered. "But, while you are in the Phantomhive manor, they are absolute." The butler walked to his Master's bedside and placed a heavy hand on Snake's shoulder. Though he'd been living with them as a footman for nearly three months now, Sebastian still didn't completely trust him. Ciel was responsible for the deaths of his comrades, after all. This time, he was full of good intentions in coming to see if Ciel was alright, but what would happen once he found out the truth? The way he looked at the young boy made even him, a demon, uneasy. "You've been here long enough to know that the Young Master sometimes has nightmares. Why investigate this time?"

"Usually, Black comforts Smile - _says Wilde_. But, this time he was calling for Black for so long - _says Donne_." Snake's chilling, green, eyes looked up at him through a fan of pure, white eyelashes. When he blinked, Sebastian thought he saw his pupils change shape. The expression in those icy eyes was hard to read. How did one know what an animal was thinking, especially a cold-blooded reptile? From Sebastian's point of view, Snake looked like he was trying to figure out the same about him.

"Why didn't Black come earlier? - _says Wilde_." Sebastian's expression of neutrality faltered. Although the words were spoken with detachment and apathy, an underlying emotion permeated them - anger. He and the demon stared each other down for a few moments. Naturally, Sebastian couldn't divulge the true nature of his activities that evening. After all, he hadn't even been near the manor until a few minutes ago and had left without telling anyone. Instead of answering Snake directly, Sebastian scooped his two companions - Emily and Wilde - from the bed.

"I want to stay with Smile - _says Emily_," Snake protested. The demon looked critically at the green-eyed man, trying to understand why his presence in Ciel's room bothered him to such an extent. Clearly, he hadn't meant any harm. But, the way he'd watched his Master - the way he tucked the blankets around him in obvious concern...

_Only I am allowed to do that_ - A hard muscle flexed in his jaw. He forced his face into a well-meaning smile.

"I'm afraid that's impossible. The Young Master doesn't like strange things in his bed. You'll have to leave now." Snake helped his companions settle on his shoulders. Each movement made the faint scales on his skin shimmer in the stray rays of moonlight that filtered through the gaps in the closed curtains. Most humans that saw him labeled him a freak - strange, even ugly. Yet, Ciel had accepted him into his home without hesitation. Sebastian had yet to understand why. After hunting humans and living on the edges of their society for several centuries, Sebastian predicted that nothing could surprise him any more. Yet, Ciel continued to do so when he least expected it. Whether the young Earl achieved this through the strength of his convictions or the many paradoxes that made up his personality, Ciel never failed to captivate the demon with his decisions and behavior.

"What does he dream about? - _says Donne_," Snake inquired, ignoring Sebastian's request.

"Do snakes not dream?" Sebastian queried, raising a brow.

"We do - _says Emily_." Snake's gaze settled on Ciel's face, slipping over his features as though trying to memorize them. The butler tensed when he reached towards him. "Not nightmares, though - _says Wilde_." With a snap, Sebastian's hand covered Snake's, cutting off its path.

"A servant should not touch the Young Master so lightly." Something dangerous flickered in the man's emerald orbs - a veiled emotion that the demon couldn't place. His fingers felt stone cold - like branches of a dead tree with bark as rough as sandpaper. As he pulled back, the scales on his skin allowed him to slip out of Sebastian's firm grip. They stood, unmoving, for several minutes. Intuition warned the demon to stay alert. One of the snakes hissed something into the man's ear.

"Black made it to the manor very quickly - _says Wild_e." Another hiss. "Smile's eyes are very beautiful - _says Emily_." Sebastian glared. "Especially his right eye - _says Donne_." He turned and made his way towards the door. Right before exiting, he spoke again. "I know what he is," Snake cautioned. Just as soundlessly as Sebastian entered the room, the silver-haired man now slipped out of it. His departure left an uncomfortable suspicion lurking in Sebastian's conscience. Was he bluffing? No. The chances that Snake knew the truth about his origins were high, especially since he'd witnessed some of his strength on the_ Campania_. The butler noted that he would have to keep a closer eye on the footman from now on. Should his loyalties shift for any reason, he would have to act quickly. Red eyes narrowed. He didn't miss one important detail, at least - Snake had spoken the last sentence as himself.

A soft whisper from behind him made him turn around to look at his Master. The boy was still asleep. Fortunately, their conversation hadn't disturbed him. With a small grin, Sebastian acknowledged that only something equivalent to a volley of guns or an explosion could pull his Master from the dredges of his heavy sleep. In the mornings, it was all he could do to wake him up. Lately, he'd developed a tendency to stay up much later than usual. During the day, he put an extreme amount of effort into fencing. In the evenings, he pored over countless books and ledgers, trying to find out more about the Undertaker's intentions. To complicate matters, the Queen herself had sent Earl Phantomhive an indirect request to investigate Weston College. The mission coincided with their personal goals, but finding a way to infiltrate the school had proven difficult. The strain was getting to his Master, even in his sleep.

He didn't understand this new drive in the young boy. Where he used to depend on his butler for many things without a thought, he now put forth a visible effort to avoid commanding his assistance. This particular development irked him. Not that he enjoyed being ordered about like a dog. He was just confused. What had prompted such a change in his Master? Was he beginning to regret their contract? If so, then he would have to act accordingly to remind the boy of his original reasons for making said pact. It wouldn't do for all of Sebastian's hard work to go to waste now. Regret and repentance gave the soul a sour, ruddy, taste.

_Not to mention_ - he pressed the back of his hand to his lips, licking the dried blood from the mark there. A feeling of mind-numbing possessiveness grappled for dominance with his self-control. _I will not let you escape from me. I will not let anyone take you from my sight._

His harsh look softened when he saw Ciel shiver. Sebastian brushed his knuckles against Ciel's cheek to make sure he wasn't chilled, enjoying the rare sensation of skin upon skin. The boy mumbled something incoherently. Before the demon could anticipate his actions, Ciel turned his face into his touch, brushing his lips against his palm. His first urge was to yank his hand back, but he stopped himself just in time. The force of the action would have snapped his Master's neck.

Soft - like the velvet of rose petals. Such were his Master's lips. Crimson eyes focussed on a small scratch on the corner of the Earl's mouth - a souvenir from one of their recent fencing lessons. He ghosted his clawed thumb across the small cut, feeling the texture of it. Suddenly, he felt a stirring of desire - a thirst to know, a hunger to taste, a yearning to sample just a little bit of what lay just within reach, but out of it. Ciel was finely aged wine, a soul that would taste better and better the more it experienced and the farther that it stepped into the waters of darkness. For years, he'd been cultivating this flavor; for years, he'd done everything in his power to protect it. Ciel belonged to him completely - body and soul. What would be wrong with taking just a small bite? He wouldn't be breaking the contract - no matter how starved he was, Sebastian would never harm his prey before its time. Their aggressive fencing lessons lately had yielded plenty of small injuries here and there that he could partake from.

Madness. This was madness. He knew it, yet the demon turned his back on the right choice with little regret. Careful not to make any kind of noise, Sebastian sat down on the edge of the bed. He pulled off his other glove and leaned down.

Farther and farther, closer and closer.

He considered stopping, but when Ciel murmured his name almost breathlessly, he knew it was too late. With a predatory glint in his eyes, Sebastian watched his Master's chest rise and fall with each breath, imagining how he would sound when the demon's fangs sank into his heart one day. Nearly a decade had passed since his last feeding. Starvation couldn't begin to describe how he felt. Yet, he kept this hunger firmly in check every day. Just as he needed to do now. The slightest mistake could end in disaster.

Farther and farther, closer and closer.

He took a deep breath, basking in Ciel's unique scent. Lavender and sandalwood on the surface; innocence, strength, and life beneath the skin. Such temptation. Only a saint could resist. And Sebastian was very far from being a saint. He recalled how Ciel had tumbled in their sparring match and injured himself on a particularly sharp rock. Extending a single claw, he cut through one of the ribbons holding his Master's nightshirt closed. The fabric slipped down, revealing a soft, creamy, shoulder. There, a single, jagged cut marred the perfection of nubile, young skin. Though it had scabbed over, the wound was still swollen. The smell of tangy blood was faint, but at this moment it was enough to drive him into a state of raw need. Glancing once more at the young Earl to make sure he was asleep, Sebastian closed his eyes.

First, he touched the wound with his lips. Then, his tongue darted out hesitantly. Slowly, gently, carefully, the demon licked the still healing injury on his Master's shoulder. The first taste of blood nearly overwhelmed his rationale. He shuddered, euphoria shooting through his veins like lightning. He made another pass. The ecstasy was so powerful this time that his grip tightened. Nearly losing himself, the demon pulled the boy towards him, wanting - no, needing - to be closer to him. His skin tasted sweet. His blood tasted like the most magnificent and vile of sins. How he wanted to devour him right here - right now. Contract and aesthetics be damned!

To his frustration, the wound was too shallow. The blood stopped too soon. Already, his saliva was healing the cut. His chest rumbled with a growl of desperation. This insanity was precisely the reason that he hadn't done this all these years. Though his Master's frequent injuries could easily be healed with a touch, Sebastian hadn't trusted himself to taste even a drop of his blood. So, why now? Was the Undertaker responsible? Seeing the faded mark on his hand and feeling his connection with Ciel weaken had caused him to lose focus. Suddenly furious with himself, he pulled back. The demon looked up and saw that Ciel's cheeks were flushed, his lips still parted on a sigh. That's right. Fragile, sensitive, sinful, humans could experience pleasure through pain. How many times had a maiden claimed to die of ecstasy while he devoured her? He'd lost count. His hunger was by no means sated, however. Already, the haze of need was settling over his thoughts once more. A hot breath escaped his lips as he searched for another open wound, disturbing the Earl's sweat-dampened hair. Unable to immediately find what he sought, the demon focussed on the cut that darkened the corner of Ciel's lips.

"Sebastian?" He watched the lips form the shape of his name, but he didn't register it. So, his actions had finally awakened his Master. He tried to struggle out of Sebastian's grip. Somehow, in the recent frenzy, the demon had dragged the boy into his arms and pinned him firmly to the mattress. One hand held his arms above his head, while the other cupped the side of his face. Such a trusting voice he possessed - confused, tired, unafraid. Ciel had no doubt in his mind that the demon would not hurt him. He needed to stop. Now. Before things escalated. With a heroic feat of willpower, Sebastian finally tore his gaze away from the boy's lips and looked into his eyes.

A beat.

"Sebastian?" His grip tightened even more.

_Stop now. Cease this lunacy!_ - his logic demanded. When he trailed his claws down the young Earl's cheek and across his neck, Ciel gasped. His blush darkened. Too late. Somewhere, the last string holding Sebastian back snapped entirely. His normally slitted pupils dilated.

"What are you doing?" the Earl objected.

"Tasting you," Sebastian replied huskily. That said, the demon moved forward and covered Ciel's lips with his own.

* * *

**To be continued...**


End file.
